


I Had a Feeling Once, It Was Terrible

by orphan_account



Category: RWBY
Genre: First Spoilers, Kind of cracky but it got emotional, M/M, Mentions of alcoholism, Oneshot, Volume 7 Knowledge Assumed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-08 06:04:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21471247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Ironwood was being suspicious. Qrow trusted him, but he knew something was up.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/James Ironwood
Comments: 12
Kudos: 86





	I Had a Feeling Once, It Was Terrible

**Author's Note:**

> This is my bed and I'll lie in it.
> 
> Something lighter after my last fic.

“So, Jimmy, the beard?”

Qrow crossed his arms, He watched, with measure, the careful way the pen moved across paper, Ironwood’s practiced cursive looping. He waited to be told off for the nickname but it didn't come.

He set the pen down and rolled a crick in his neck. “I’ve been somewhat distracted,” he said.

“Don’t you get food in it?”

With mirth, he said, “No.”

“I grew mine out once. On a hunt.”

“I’d like pictures, if you have any.”

“It was awful,” Qrow said, “I looked like a caveman.”

“Cave habitation of early humans in Remnant was very organised,” Ironwood said, “systematic ancestral ritual, feasting—I’m sure they had something for grooming.”

Qrow huffed. “Oh, so you’re saying I’m worse than a caveman?”

“I’m saying there’s no comparison.” A stupid smile passed on his face.

“Don’t give me that stupid smile, I hate it.”

He smiled even wider. “Is that so.”

“Yep.”

“I see,” Ironwood said, and just to fuck with him, “I’ll try not to, then.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“So are you going to come in, then, and sit down, or would you prefer to brood by the doorway about my personal grooming choices?”

“I mean, a little stubble is alright,” Qrow said, and he sauntered in (sexily, in his estimation), “But isn’t the full beard distracting?”

“Are you trying to intimate my beard isn’t attractive?”

“It’s not—it’s not not attractive.”

Stupid smile. Qrow played himself.

“I’ll take it into account, then,” Ironwood wisely said.

Qrow crossed his arms again.

“You seem happier.”

“At a time like this? How bad was I before?” Qrow waits a minute. “I went sober.”

“I noticed,” Ironwood said.

Qrow shrunk in his chair a little and kicked a leg out casually. He looked away. “That bad, huh.”

“There are always support services in Atlas if you need them,” James said, “I hope you were safe sobering up.”

“Aura’ll take care of it.”

At Ironwood’s wary look, Qrow said, “Well, if you want me to be honest, it sucked. Going dry always sucks. Stop looking at me like that.”

“I don’t think I want to stop looking,” Ironwood said.

So Qrow got up out of his chair and left.

*

“Ironwood’s up to something.”

Trust Qrow to go to Ruby.

“We kinda already know what he’s doing,” she said, “You know? The big tower in the sky? What else is he supposed to be up to?”

“He’s being nice.”

Weiss looked between the two of them. She was a bit of a diva, but in a good way. “Ironwood has always been personable.”

Now he had all the kids looking at him.

“We think Ironwood’s being shifty?” Jaune said. “I thought you were the shifty one?”

“What do you mean, I’m the shifty one?”

“Well,” he said, “You’re a spy, and Ironwood’s a headmaster. One of them can give you detention.”

“I was a teacher,” Qrow said.

Ruby said, “You never gave me detention though!”

“Yeah, because you didn’t want to leave school. Punishment was going home.”

Ruby liked her job too much. Qrow didn’t want to think about it right now.

“Wait, you said he was being nice.” Ruby put a hand on her chin. “How is being nice bad?”

“It’s too adult for your ears.”

“I’m nearly seventeen!”

“I need—a peer,” Qrow said, “somebody—my own age—that’d understand.”

“I’m old!”

“Winter is mature,” Weiss said, “And also excellent at navigating interpersonal relationships. It’s why she’s General Ironwood’s closest confidante.”

“You realise she’s still a good decade younger than me,” Qrow said carefully, “Don’t you.”

“Ironwood’s your age,” Ren said.

“He’s the problem!”

“Communication is the cornerstone of a good relationship.”

Nora slapped him on the back. “That’s right!”

“If you’re concerned about his behaviour, bring it up with an ‘I feel’ statement, so he doesn’t feel defensive,” Ren continued. “Then you can talk about your feelings in a positive, non-accusatory space, working for the betterment of you both.”

Qrow squinted.

“He reads a lot of self-help books,” Nora said.

*

Qrow went back to Ironwood. He tried not to think too hard but being sober meant he had to think about his feelings and stuff.

“Jimmy,” he said, “I feel...”

“You’re back?”

“I feel that...” he tried, “I feel that you are being too nice, and I’m concerned.”

“Wait.” He looked legitimately worried. “Too nice?”

“Yes. Too nice.”

“Have I made you uncomfortable?”

“Yes!”

“Oh,” Ironwood said. His mouth caught open. “I—I apologise for making you uncomfortable. I hope I didn’t overstep.”

“No! That’s not why.”

“I don’t understand, then.”

Qrow crossed his arms and slouched. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It clearly does.”

“You shouldn’t be nice to me.”

“Hold on,” Ironwood said, “You truly believe that.”

“Yes!”

“Why?”

“Because nobody’s supposed to be nice!”

Ironwood got up. “So you think it’s an imposition on my part, then?”

“No.”

Ironwood waited.

“I’ve been with the kids a long time, now,” Qrow said. “Longer still before that scouting.”

“So you’ve not been around somebody on equal ground.”

“Stop—no, don’t psychoanalyse me.”

Ironwood smiled. Again. He reached out and placed a hand on Qrow’s elbow. He then said, “You missed someone caring for you.”

“No. No, I’m fine on my own.”

“I think you don’t need to be.”

Qrow tried to leave, but James pulled back first.

“I know the students’ upgrades are coming through,” James said, swiftly changing topics at the flightiness he could clearly pick up on, “But I’ve had a little... involvement in your new combat outfit.”

Qrow didn’t mention that his current combat outfit was also his sleeping outfit, and his casual outfit, and also his sicking up outfit—it would be a little sad to bring that up, probably. James probably already knew. Sometimes Qrow missed the sensation of pyjamas, but it also meant he didn’t have to think hard about getting dressed in the morning.

So when James showed him the design of the clothes he was commissioning, Qrow zeroed in on the design on his sleeves and how it was Ozpin’s clockwork that joined them together. Just them two, now, and Glynda back in Beacon.

“I thought it was a nice touch,” James said.

Qrow felt his throat clog up. It must have been his allergies and adjustment to Atlas. Not that Qrow had ever had hives in his life, but it was a near thing.

*

“I figured out why you’re concerned about General Ironwood’s generosity,” Ren said.

Qrow gave into receiving advice. Taking it was another thing.

“I believe that you are unable to accept love,” Ren said, and Jaune nodded, “And as such, you are resistant and avoidant of any potential advances.”

“Advances?” Qrow choked on his drink. It was a soda. Tasted like artificial sweetener. “No, sorry, are you—”

“And we’re proud of you for sobering up, and we want to support you any way we can!” Ruby said.

“No, you’re not in on this too.”

“You should accept Ironwood’s love, if you are able to and you want to,” Ren said, “I understand the difficulty of change, and moving on from pain.”

“It’s tough,” Nora said. “But we think you can do it!”

“I’m not—Ruby, you don’t really think this, do you?”

“Oh, Uncle Qrow,” Ruby said, hugging his unoccupied arm, “I know you really love us, but sometimes you have trouble showing it.”

“I’m not—in love with Ironwood!”

Fate decides to fuck with him when, at the door of the rec room, Ironwood said, “Who’s not in love with me?”

“Me!” Qrow shouted, slamming his drink onto the bench. It didn’t have the same effect as a glass of whiskey, but it would do, circumstances given. “They’re trying to say I’m in love with you and resistant to affection!”

Ironwood looked shocked.

Qrow then, for dramatic effect, picked up his drink and gestured to him with it, “Yeah, see, weird as you think it is. Kids can’t tell me shit.”

“We aren’t kids,” Ren said.

“No, Ren,” Ruby interjected, “He’s just saying that because _we’re _his kids!”

“Oh, I see!”

“No!” Qrow said.

“He’s adopted a paternal role in absence of our parents. Well, Qrow, Nora and I are orphaned, so we accept you taking up your duties in an official respect, if you would like to fund our studies and/or take up traditional duties at official events and weddings.”

“I’m not—weddings?”

“Weddings?” Ironwood repeated, but he kept staring at Qrow.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of them,” Nora said. “Thanks, dad!”

Qrow tried to object, but she kept going. “And then if you marry General Ironwood, we’ll have two dads. You could just keep marrying more men and we could have _more _dads. We could have infinite dads, Ren! Infinite! Dads! The power!”

Qrow finished his drink. He wanted another.

“I’m sorry, but what started this discussion?” Ironwood said, moving from his frozen spot that he had been since he entered. He slid into an empty chair opposite Qrow.

“Qrow’s only peer is you, General Ironwood,” Ren said. “As such, when you are the problem, he must turn to someone else, who tells him a truth he does not want to accept.”

“Please, you may call me James,” he said, “I think, Qrow, we could have talked this out.”

“Nuh uh.” Qrow squinted and he surveyed James: he needed to clean up, just like Qrow. One of them was getting a new outfit, and the other was looking—tired.

So Qrow tried some of the emotional maturity he was cultivating.

“I feel...” he started, but then he cut the bullshit and said, standing up out of his chair and strutting, “Why the hell are you doing all this for us when you’re not even looking after yourself?”

In the corner of his eye he saw Ren nod approvingly.

But Qrow wasn’t paying attention to the peanut gallery. He’d had it up to here. The kids could look after themselves, but it didn’t hurt to have adults around sometimes, and Qrow had started learning how to play it cool again. But James was cooping himself up, opening his home, and still not letting himself out fully.

“You—take us in,” Qrow continued into the silence of James’ soft and shocked gaze. He didn’t add that it was _you took me in, _more directly. “And you—shave your beard!”

“So you don’t like my beard?”

“You don’t _normally_ have a beard, but I haven’t seen you in so long, do I even know you? Maybe you just have a beard now, James. Maybe that’s how—”

Qrow cut himself off. James looked determined, his brow furrowed. Qrow knew what was coming just based on the glint in his and there was nothing he could do to prepare himself. He was fucked. He was so soundly fucked.

James swept him up in a hug, but it was more desperate than last time.

“Look after yourself,” Qrow said. It wasn’t fair if he was the only one getting his shit together. Then he added, “Let me.”

“I’ll let you,” James said.

So they soundly marched off to James’ quarters and made out like teenagers. Qrow was sure they’d get past the awkward hand-holding stage and have sex eventually, but maybe after James shaved and they had another talk about emotions. It was fucking exhausting, but Qrow had snuck some practice in.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, let me know what you thought! It gives me incentive to write (:


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